HELP! HOW TO GET MORE TIME IN YOUR LIFE

ANOTHER DAY! So much to do, so many opportunities, so, at 7: 30!!! you roar out of the driveway, already late, low on gas, no time now, running on fumes, flick on the radio, hear time management expert chirping about the revolutionary, life-changing power of Making a List, gotta have a list, “Without a list, you’re lost, ” so you swerve down the street, groping for that damned notepad you seem to remember jamming down between the seats a tew months ago, look up, hundreds of red tail lights ahead, minutes dying as you stop-start-stop-start, scribbling out your list check with Betty about the Greble account; set up lunch with Smith; clarify just what it was the boss wanted you to call the Chicago office about; call Chicago; talk to the guys in marketing about something that might goose up the numbers in Region 5; call the city to complain about the idiots across the street whose weeds are taller than their Great Dane-until you finally get to the office (8: 45 a. m. !) and make a beeline for the coffee pot, grab the last cup, but the boss walks in and scowls at empty pot, so you spend five minutes making coftee, then try to call Chicago, but the person you need is tied up so you hold, hold some more, then hang up, call back, she’s gone to lunch you leave a message and decide to call the city, line’s busy, still busy, you finally get through-“Welcome to the city government’s convenient automated phone system. Bienvenidos al sistema telephonico automatico del gobierno municipal. For instructions in English, press 1. Para instrucciones en espanol… “-you press 1, wait, press 1 again-“to request blueprints for City Hall, press 8, “-you press 0, hoping to get a real person who can direct your call-“Welcome to the city government’s convenient… ” you hang up annoyed, check voice-mail, Chicago called back, you return call but contact has stepped away from her desk, you leave another message (argh!), and decide to print that letter from yesterday, but co-worker is printing an 18-page report, so you decide to play a quick game of computer solitaire, just one or two games of course, okay maybe three, (c’mon where’s that blasted four of hearts?) okay, last hand, all right one more, but this is really your last hand, no, this is really your last hand, then you suddenly remember that your daughter has to go to a birthday party tomorrow at 10 a. m. and you haven’t bought a present yet, so you cancel the power lunch with Smith and head to Wal-mart for a Barbie doll, stopping tor a McLunch but you’re number 12 in line, so you wait, get your food, drive off, steering with your knees as you wolf down the burger, and you can still taste the onions an hour later when you return to the office, Barbie in tow, and start typing up some notes on your computer for the guys in marketing, type-type-type, what the hell?!?!? screen’s frozen, power surge, never had time to install that surge protector that may be sitting in the bottom drawer, so you have to start over, but suddenly your boss looms in the doorway and asks you to pop in for an unscheduled but somehow vital impromptu meeting, so you go reluctantly, sit patiently, while Bob the accountant (and Worlds Most Boring Person) takes the floor to slooooowwwwll-ly explain that the fact of the matter is that the budgetary impact of the May quota recisions may be even greater than was previously envisioned, though you don’t remember envisioning it, and you feel your eyes glazing over as a kind of mental rigor mortis sets in, and when the meeting ends you forget about the guys in marketing and listen to your voice mail, Chicago called, you return the call. again, “She’s left the office for the day, ” splendid, well maybe that fax is here (the one that was due first thing this morning), nope nothing yet, you call, they say they sent it, you go hack to the fax machine, out of paper, you spend 10 minutes trying to find someone who knows where the paper is and how to put it in the machine, you never find the person, hut you do find the paper, so you load the machine yourself and it starts spitting out backed-up faxes, first one’s not yours, neither is the second (now why would someone send 32 pages by fax anyhow?), so you come hack, page 28 of 32, ah, here it is, but it’s 5: 30, do it tomorrow, back in the traffic, oh yeah, still need gas but at 5: 30 so does everyone else, so you wait in line, fill the tank, pay, head home, realize you don’t have any tape to wrap up Barbie, so you run to the grocery store and while you’re there you decide to pick up a few other things-bread, milk, some cereal, oh, and toothpaste-and you get in line and just as you notice that the guy in front of you has at least 22 items in the express line!, you realize that you left your checkbook in the car and here it is 9 p. m. so you pay cash for the stuff (gotta stop at the ATM in the morning!) and when you finally get home, you realize that, naturally, you forgot the rape-and where does the time go, anyway?